Loser
by Spanish Ninja Sneasel
Summary: Chapter five. Sequel to Black Balloon. Balancing triyng to cope with constantly being ridiculed and frustrating feelings towards his only friend, all Roy wants is to keep his sanity.
1. Chapter one

Notes: Smash Brothers, Fire Emblem and all related characters belong to Nintendo. The lyrics inserted in the chapter are from the song "Quasimodo" and are owned by Lifehouse. There, that sounded professional enough, ne?  
  
This is the sequel to "Black Balloon"--a sequel that some people didn't want me to write. But I suppose I actually got around to starting this because I was reading over some of my work, and I decided something: I'm damn proud of Black Balloon. It's one of the very few stories that I've done well, and I personally think it deserves a sequel. And one more thing: There are a few references to Fire Emblem (note the disclaimer). If you read this and don't understand some of the things said throughout the story, I'll explain them either in author's notes or in the story itself.  
  
__ __ __  
  
'You can be right and I'll be real  
Honesty won't be a pain that you will have to feel  
Cause I don't need your approval to find my worth.'  
  
"Look at them all," I murmur to myself from the corner of the cafeteria that I've hidden myself into. Twenty-one of them, laughing, yelling... It isn't often that all twenty-five fighters actually go to lunch. In fact, this is one of the few times that I actually have. Sure, I went when I first came here... Only to be ridiculed, being the first time they had some off time with me. When I came here, all I wanted was to prove my strength and have a good time doing it... The first part seems to be going through, at any rate. But even with my exceptional abilities that some people have admitted that I have, I still don't get respect.  
  
It's probably because I was the last one. I was the last to register, just barely getting the last spot. Number twenty-five. I suppose that just made me immediate material to poke fun at. Also, everyone here has done something great--some wonderful way of making his or her mark. As for me... I'm a prince. As such, I've grown up earning respect from my title. But here, that doesn't matter. They had told me, "you mean you've been sheltered all your life? Novice. What experience could you have that will serve you purpose here?"  
  
Those are the important reasons, of course. They also love picking on me for little things. For instance, they always make a point that I look so much younger than I actually am. I quickly got irritated with the comments similar to those given to the ten-year-olds. And they find amusement in my spiked, yet long, hair. I think I'll probably go insane if I hear the phrase "punk rocker" one more time. After the situation with Link... Well, they just had more to ridicule.  
  
'Trapped inside of my own mind  
Afraid to open my eyes cause of what I'd find  
And I don't want to live like this anymore.'  
  
I suppose that crossed the line. It seemed as if my only reason for being there was to be there for them to laugh at, and I was sure I deserved more than that. But Link... He was the one whom I noticed never did. I was stupid to think... That maybe he didn't hate me, too. I guess that's what caused my attraction to him. When he acted as if I wasn't even human, I just couldn't take it. I started questioning whether or not I really did deserve better. After someone I hardly even considered before got involved, the frustration and confusion overtook me, and I found myself with my blade to my own throat. With his help, I recovered... But the scar across my throat gives them more to criticize.  
  
'There goes my pain  
There goes my chains  
Did you see them falling?  
Curse this feeling  
That has no meaning.'  
  
Someone approaches me, at my table that I'm sitting on in the corner... It's him. A little smile reaches his face as he sits down across from me. "You're here. That's a change of pace."  
  
"Yeah," I mumble, trying not to look at him. "I just... Felt like coming."  
  
He begins peeling the orange that he carried with him, seemingly expecting my reaction. People start glancing over. I guess by befriending me, Marth--or Marus, as he told me to call him--became less popular among the others. But still he's kind to me, even in public. I'm not that important; why doesn't he care?  
  
Falco mumbles something to Peach while staring at us, no doubt causing her to giggle. I roll my eyes and sigh. "You know..."  
  
"Hm?" He asks calmly, still concentrating on the fruit.  
  
"People are starting to say things."  
  
"How do you mean?" His nonchalant tone continues.  
  
"Marus, haven't you realized that by befriending me, you've compromised your respect to these people?" I get off the table and sit down properly, leaning my elbows on it.  
  
"Let them talk," he shrugged. "If they're bored enough with their own lives to care about what we do when they don't even like either of us much, that's for them to worry about," he finished by putting a piece of orange in his mouth.  
  
I just don't understand how he can have such a casual attitude with what they think of him... By now, I suppose I'm used to it, but they used to like him. Maybe...  
  
"Want some?" He interrupts my thoughts, holding a dripping piece of fruit in front of me.  
  
"Uh... No, that's all right," I mumble as I look down at the table.  
  
...Maybe I should be more like him.  
  
'There goes the world  
Off of my shoulders  
There goes the world  
Off of my back  
There it goes.' 


	2. Chapter two

Author's notes: Well, for a sequel that nobody wanted me to write, it's getting good feedback. ^_^ Thanks to everyone who reviewed (and those who commented on it while reviewing STFF). It's greatly appreciated. ^^  
  
__ __ __  
  
'Everyone is looking, and  
Everyone is laughing, but I think  
Everyone feels the same  
Everybody wants to feel okay  
And everybody wants to feel...'  
  
The dorm hall seems very quiet, for being nighttime. Then again, I suppose it makes sense; most of the fighters are probably in the main hall, doing whatever the hell it is they do on Saturday nights. I wouldn't know, of course, because I've never gone to one of these events. I know I wouldn't be wanted, so why bother?  
  
However, I know there's one person who'll be in the dorm...  
  
I take my boots off before opening the door to my room, and no sort of surpise comes over me as I see another pair outside the door, as well. I enter the room and see my roommate sitting on his bed. He looks up at me as I close the door behind me, and he greets me with a small but warm smile and a, "Hey."  
  
I raise my eyebrows and force a smile; the closest thing I can manage to a polite "hello." Dammit, can't I show him more respect than that?  
  
But he seems to understand, since he doesn't change his hospitable tone. "Nothing to do?" he asks as I unhook my cloak and toss it onto the floor beside my bed.  
  
"Eh," I mutter quietly, still trying to avoid eye contact. "There's no one to spar with; everyone's off doing whatever."  
  
He chuckles softly. "Sit down," he continues, gesturing across from himself on the bed.  
  
The thought of sitting that close to him alone makes me feel a little uneasy. After what happened that one night, I don't want him to get any ideas. Instead, I sit on my own small bed. He doesn't complain.  
  
It's not that I blame him for what happened, or anything...  
  
"Do you know what the hour is? Our clock seems to be busted," he fiddles around with the digital clock in his hands, seemingly trying to figure out how to change the blinking 12:00.  
  
...I just can't get involved.  
  
"It doesn't matter, anyway. That thing's not really useful," I mumble in response to his attempt at starting a conversation.  
  
"Well, some of us like to get up when practices start, like we're supposed to," he continues playing with the buttons that he doesn't seem to understand.  
  
I sigh and fall with my back against the sheets. "Come on, Marus. Are you going to ridicule me, too?"  
  
He looks up from the mechanism. "It was just a joke, Roy. Don't take everything so seriously."  
  
I roll my eyes and look up at the ceiling. I want to point out to him that he's doing it anyway, but instead I keep quiet and stare intently at the low, off-white tiles. I spend so much time like this. I can almost sense him shake his head as he goes back to his attempt to fix the clock.  
  
A while passes without a word spoken between the two of us. It's always so quiet in this room. Marus seems to have the clock figured out, I notice, as he puts it back on the desk, now reading 9:48. Although I'm used to the silence, sometimes I wish I could have someone to speak to once in a while. It's not his fault, though. He always tries to talk to me, but I end up screwing the whole thing up, like I just did. Maybe I should break the silence for once.  
  
"Hey," I mumble in a voice that gives off a little more emotion than I'd like.  
  
"Yes?" he replies quietly from his own bed.  
  
I turn towards him and try to think of something small to say to him. But a question that I've been wondering for a while pops out. "Why do you want me to call you Marus, if everyone else knows you as Marth?"  
  
He lets out a small laugh. "If you must know, Marus is my real name. Since you're my only real friend around here, I wanted you to call me by what I am."  
  
That raises another question that makes its way out of my throat as well. "But then, why are you registered as Marth?"  
  
His eyes, which are on the ceiling as mine had been, grow long and he shrugs. "I guess I just don't want to keep something to myself. I mean, this tournament isn't a personal thing, right? You don't know who you can and can't trust."  
  
I nod once, even though I know he can't see me. I understand what he means, how he feels. He always seemed so social with them, but ever since the incident, I've been seeing a different part of him. I know he's been through a lot back in his own dimension, and when he lets down his mask, you can see it in his eyes. Sometimes he's not so confident. Maybe his alias is a way that he can have something to hold onto, and not have himself totally exposed.  
  
But even taking all of that into consideration, he still does what he can to try and help me... To get closer to me. Why would he want to get close to someone if he doesn't want them to get close to him?  
  
Does he actually trust me?  
  
As these thoughts fly through my head, the one that had occurred to me earlier returned.  
  
Maybe I should be more like him.  
  
With all of the thoughts that had made their way into my mind about him, I didn't seem to feel like talking with him so much anymore. It would make me uncomfortable to have small talk with him while I thought so deeply into his character, but I couldn't allow myself anything deeper than that. So I simply pull the mess of blankets at the foot of the bed over myself and turn on my back away from him. "I'm going to bed early," I inform him in that same emotional voice. Dammit.  
  
I don't fall asleep, though. It must have been a couple of hours that I lay awake, thinking about Marus. How could one simple question trigger so much contemplation? I sigh quietly and shift my body, hoping to actually get a bit of rest. But one more stray thought comes into my mind, that keeps me awake.  
  
I just can't get involved. 


	3. Chapter three

Author's notes: The lyrics are from "Loser" by Three Doors Down. Yes, I named the story after this song. But "Quasimodo", the song I've been using, is more of a theme song for it, ne?  
  
Thank you once again to everyone who reviewed. People actually like it! ^.^ This chapter's a little over-the-top compared to how uneventful the other two have been, but either way, I hope I don't throw anybody off. ^^; Again, I really appreciate the great reviews I got for the last chapter. It really makes me happy to know that people like my writing in so many aspects--and I'll tell you now that it takes quite a bit to make me really happy. ^^;  
  
__ __ __  
  
'You're getting closer  
To pushing me off of life's little ledge  
Cause I'm loser  
And sooner or later, you know I'll be dead  
You're getting closer  
You're holding the rope and I'm taking the fall  
Cause I'm a loser  
I'm a loser.'  
  
I should have stayed in my room.  
  
There they are--all twenty-two of them, "encouraging" me to go into battle. As soon as I came down to the arenas, they jumped me about this. Have they been planning it, or what?  
  
"Well, what's it going to be?" my helmeted challenger says in a cocky tone as he folds his arms across his chest and shifts his weight to one side. "Are you too sissy to even face me?"  
  
Still sitting on a bench outside of the Big Blue arena, I try to ignore the other battlers who are trying to persuade me to enter battle with the brash fighter by the name of Captain Falcon. I move my eyes from my fixed stare on absolutely nothing and towards Falcon. "It's first thing in the morning. The last thing I want to do is jump on the backs of a bunch of cars going a thousand miles an hour, swinging my sword."  
  
The others burst out laughing at this comment. Although I keep my temper under control, I'm still tempted to snap my neck around to them and dare them to do it, instead. Where is Marus, anyway? He's the only one who isn't here...  
  
"Oh, I get it. So you are afraid, aren't you?" Falcon sniggers. "I should've known better than to challenge someone so sensitive--"  
  
In a heartbeat, I jump to my feet and pull my sword out. "Shut the hell up already! Do you want me to beat you that badly?" I realize right after speaking that I'm going to regret accepting before I even had a chance to warm up.  
  
The others start cheering as Falcon steps into the entrance room to the closed off, transparent-walled arena and I have no choice but to follow him. Before stepping in, though, I see Marus hurrying into the benches, pulling his boots on and looking hurried. I try not to laugh to myself; I guess he didn't set the clock right after all. As he looks around to see what's happening, we make brief eye contact. In response to his look of confusion, I raise my eyebrows helplessly toward him, letting him know that it certainly wasn't my idea.  
  
I see my opponent for a moment before we're both enshrouded in separate lights. I close my eyes to avoid getting too dizzy as I'm moved at almost warping speed into the battlefield. I feel the platform that I travel on ease up, and so I open my eyes just in time before being dropped a foot above Captain Falcon's ship, which is significantly larger than the others in the stage. I'm face to face with my challenger once again, and we both stay as still as possible until the booming voice calls for the battle to begin.  
  
I predict Falcon's first move perfectly, and push my sword in front of myself in a defensive position to counter his Raptor Boost. He falls back, flaming for a few seconds, then jumps at me again. Before he can make contact with me, I send him back again with a smash of my sword. With the situation at my advantage, I jump into the air and land directly in front of him as he stands up, and grab him before he can attack. I knee his stomach once before slamming him onto the ship, causing him to bound off of the main ship and onto one of the smaller ones below. I expect he'll try something if I go down after him, so I run to the other side of the ship and jump down onto a different racer. But he apparently read me just as well, because before I even land, his foot connects with my chest just below my armor.  
  
It's a hard hit, yes, but it's only my first; I catch myself before hitting my back hard onto the ship and quickly push back onto my feet. I see that he's planning to do one of his hard-hitting moves, so I beat him to the punch; I launch myself off the ground with incredible force as my blade erupts in large flames. I hit my target straight on and hear the cheers of the others watching as he shoots skyward.  
  
I make one very simple mistake: I let my guard down as this happens. Almost as quickly as he goes up, I feel a horrible impact hitting me diagonally from above, pushing me into the ground. The hit dazes me, so I'm unaware that he's planned more until it's too late. Before I can pull myself together, I feel him grab the front of my body. A horrible pain shoots through me, and he soon tosses me away. I feel the strong wind against me as I'm sent upward and back down again, hitting one of the cars with a hard thud. As I try to collect myself enough to stand again, I hear the others cheering Falcon's name.  
  
But I quickly notice something's wrong. Still on my back, I see that he's doing his infamous pose and gaining distance fast. Neither one of us is moving, so how could he be getting so far away so quickly? A thought occurs to me, causing me to jump to my feet. But he wouldn't...  
  
Would he?  
  
He's almost entirely out of sight now, and the car I'm on is the only one in jumping distance. I would most certainly be out of bounds now. Since I haven't fallen off yet, that means that there's only one possibility: he rigged the car.  
  
A mix of rage and panic builds up inside me. I'm sure he's exited the arena, and he and his friends are now laughing about what could be happening to me out of the seen field. This has to be one of the lowest things that he's done in his time here: faking a battle to play a practical joke. But I can't seethe over this for long; I never noticed before, being too preoccupied with the battle, but not only does the track go at insane speed--it also loops and jumps. And maybe it's just because I'm noticing now, but it seems to be going faster than normal.  
  
Or maybe that's part of his joke, too.  
  
I let out a shout as the ship jerks down from a jump and I lose my balance. I fall onto my chin, straining the scar across my throat, which is still somewhat fresh. I let out another cry, but much quieter and more sore. Rather than trying to get back onto my feet, I clutch onto the ship to avoid falling again. The only thing I can do is wait until Falcon decides he's had enough fun and sets the rules right again.  
  
But then another possibility arises. Not one that I particularly favor, however. The car is going much faster than the others, but when I see the other ships up ahead, I'm reminded that the stage circles. The panic takes over the rage and I immediately try to think of how I can avoid the situation ahead of me. The only thing I can come up with is to jump off the bottom to exit, rather than the side. It's painful, of course, but not nearly as much as colliding with the other ships, I imagine. But with the speed of my ship increasing, the wind holds me down against it, and I can't push myself enough to get off.  
  
As soon as I shut my eyes and try to brace myself, a horrible screech of metal fills my ears. 


	4. Chapter four

Author's notes: Warning: Very, very short chapter. It has to be short; I couldn't overdo it, and I just hope it'll keep you reading for the next chapter, which hopefully won't be too much of a wait...  
  
I really want to thank Moiras and Boethas. Not just because you two reviewed the last chapter, but because you've been giving me wonderful reviews on this and STFF, and that's what's inspiring me to write more often as I have been. I've talked about this a few times before, but people always tell me I should write for myself and only myself. I do it for myself, of course, but as I do with anything, I need someone else to enjoy it before I can be proud of it myself. If I'm the only one I'm doing it for, it just doesn't seem worth doing... But lately, people like you have been supporting me and I feel like I'm actually making someone happy. I want to update as much as possible, hoping that it'll make someone smile. And thanks to the support you've been giving me, I CAN do that without forcing myself to. I'm not going to go into a boring lecture about my life dreams and whatnot, so I'll end this before it gets longer than the chapter itself. Thank you, Boethas, Moiras, and everyone else who's enjoying ANY of my work. You're appreciated more than you'll ever know. ::bows::  
  
__ __ __  
  
I hear... Shouting. Pain in my left leg overtakes me before I can decipher what the voices are saying. I try to lift myself, but I can't move my arms. They're... Being held down.  
  
I finally manage to open my eyes, and the first thing I see is Mario, bearing a white jacket and a stethoscope; looking down on me is the fighter whom I can never take seriously. I see that my arms have been strapped down to the uncomfortable padding beneath me. I look past these things and try to figure out what's going on.  
  
The first thing that calls my attention is Marus. But his attention isn't on me; I come across him as he slams a man into a wall, holding him by his shoulders. A lot of the shouting seems to be coming from Marus. I've never seen him so angry... I next look to the person he appears to be threatening. The indigo, skintight body suit and red helmet immediately turn on a light in my mind. Seeing Captain Falcon, thoughts of him flood my head... Dashing up to me with his classic starting move; beating down on me from above; falling away into the background on...  
  
A car.  
  
Now I remember.  
  
My mind suddenly starts spinning; the board I'm on is being moved. This adds more strain to my leg, but I don't bother to try and complain. My eyes turn back to Marus as the room falls out of view. He doesn't notice me, but... I want him to follow. All I want is for him to be with me. I'm not scared... I've handled injuries before. But my mind is mixed up and racing and the only thing I can understand is that I want him near me.  
  
I let out a vocal strain, trying to talk to him so he'll notice me. But I'm out of the room and soon the arena itself. Right now I don't care if my leg is broken or if I have head damage. I want Marus with me, and that's all that matters.  
  
That's all that matters anymore.  
  
It's getting hard to keep my eyes open. Not that it's important, anyway... I realize that it doesn't matter how much I want him, because he didn't notice me and that's something I can't change at this point. Marus, I'm sorry I pushed you away...  
  
Just please notice me. 


	5. Chapter five

Author's notes: Wow, I finally got around to writing the tricky chapter that stowed itself into my brain and refused to come out. .* It didn't turn out as good as I hoped, but I still hope someone will enjoy it. ^^;;  
  
__ __ __  
  
My eyes finally slip open, and all I see is white. I feel dizzy but I pull my head together enough to focus, and I see that I'm in the hospital wing. It's well lit, but not too much so, which is quite relaxing for my sore eyes. Then again, everything feels kind of sore. I glance around the room listlessly until my attention is called to something that makes my senses all focus in an almost painful way.  
  
He's here.  
  
All of my previous thoughts strike back into my head all at once. Everything I had felt linked back to him. Why did that come over me? In that time, when nothing was clear, and all I cared about was my thoughts of him... What was that about?  
  
"You're awake!" I feel his hand reach over mine. I abandon my thoughts to focus my eyes again and see that he's leaned forward, with a look of pure concern on his face. "Are you all right?"  
  
A hot rush swells into my face, and I pull my hand away from his as effectively as I can.  
  
"Fine," I reply, surprised at how clear my voice is after such an incident.  
  
He doesn't seem affected by my last action, and he continues to look into me with that gaze. I want to tell him to stop. I want to tell him to stop making me feel this way. I want him to stop making me feel...  
  
"What are you doing here?" the words come from my lips.  
  
"I... Came because I was worried," he mumbles. "Your head took a bad hit. You shouldn't use too much energy. They say that will heal in a couple of days, but your main concern should be your left leg. Apparently it's fractured."  
  
"I know," I say simply in a cold voice.  
  
Stop this... Why do you care so much?  
  
He stares me in the eye with that look, but he's not oblivious to my attitude with him. I can tell.  
  
Can't you see what you're doing to me?  
  
"I'll ask again. Why are you here?" I turn my eyes away from his. I don't want to see the look that will come next.  
  
"Roy..." his voice drops just above a whisper. "I told you, I was worried."  
  
Why are you putting all of this onto me?  
  
"Why?" I add just after hearing those words. "What concern is it of yours? You weren't hurt, were you?"  
  
Although my eyes are turned away, I can just tell that his expression is changing. Something is finally adding onto the look he's held since I woke up. He seems hurt.  
  
I don't want to upset you... Not really.  
  
"But you were. Isn't it normal for a person to be concerned when someone close to them could have died?  
  
...Close?  
  
"I didn't ask you to come," my voice raises slightly.  
  
Why am I saying these things to him?  
  
"So, what is it? Do you want me to leave you here alone? What if you fall under again?" his pain is becoming anger.  
  
Is it that important to me to block out the feelings I had before?  
  
I look back at him, as my eyes show the same annoyance that his voice does. That hot sensation flushes back into my face and I turn away as quickly as I turned to him.  
  
...Are they really completely gone?  
  
I hear him sigh, trying to calm down. I doubt it worked. "Why are you acting like this?"  
  
I don't know.  
  
"I don't need you here, okay, Marus? You aren't my guardian, nor do I need one." my voice raises more. "I don't need to be treated like a child yet again."  
  
"I'm not treating you like a child!" his eyes burn. "I'm only here because--"  
  
The look on his face tells me that he went farther than he wanted to.  
  
I know why you're here. You don't need to tell me. I can see it when you get like this. It's hard for you to hide it.  
  
"You're here because you feel sorry for me, is that it?"  
  
"That's not it and you know it," his voice suddenly becomes stern. "I'm not an idiot, and I can take a hint. I just thought that after everything I'd done to help you, you would show a little more gratitude."  
  
...And you're right. You've helped me more than you know... So why can't I tell you?  
  
"Helped me? When have you helped me?"  
  
What's holding me back?  
  
"All you've done is screwed me up more," I continue, against my own wish but I can't stop. "You should've let me bleed out back there. Then I wouldn't be stuck here now."  
  
"What kind of death would that be?! You couldn't even slit far enough to do any serious damage! All that proves is that you didn't have the guts to do it!"  
  
Those words stay in my mind painfully. I can feel the features on my face change, and the anger fades. I don't know what is visible on my face, however, but I don't really care. My eyes stare blankly onto the sheets, and the wor repeat in my head.  
  
...I'm sorry.  
  
After a moment of silence, he settles back into a less angry expression, as well. "You don't want to die, and I know it. I'm sorry if I'm not good enough to be your savoir, but I just don't want to see you hurt anymore. If you don't give a damn about me, fine," slowly he stands.  
  
No... Don't leave...  
  
"But that's not going to change the way I feel about you," he adds in a mumble as he turns away.  
  
Don't leave me now.  
  
"Don't you get it?!" the false anger flares up again. "It's not worth it, dammit! Stop wasting your time with me! Because you're right, I don't care!"  
  
Stop saying these things...  
  
His head lowers slightly. His hair shadows over his eyes. I can see his lips move slightly from the small part of his mouth that I can see, but nothing comes out.  
  
I'm sorry, Marus.  
  
I hear a shaking breath as he pulls himself up and walks quickly toward the door without breaking into a run.  
  
Please don't leave.  
  
He doesn't look back as he closes the door behind him. As he leaves, so does the part of myself so determined on holding myself back. Without his presence, it doesn't seem to feel the need to come out. It's accomplished what it wanted.  
  
My voice cracks in my next breath. The pressure in my chest is forced out, and I no longer care if I cry. I don't care if anybody comes in and sees me like this. I don't care. I screwed it all up. He's gone now...  
  
And I just don't have the strength to care anymore. 


End file.
